Mistakes With Purpose
by Iggyloid
Summary: I'm the unlikely Gryffindor; I hail from a family of rich, pure-blooded Slytherins, and yet, here I am - the odd-ball - thank Merlin's beard I'm not the only one. Not with Alfred here. USUK, Harry Potter!AU, AlfredXArthur.
1. The Unlikely Gryffindor

"Gryffindor!" The Sorting Hat bellowed and my whole body froze. _Gryffindor? _Oh, no, no. I was supposed to be a Slytherin! Just like my brothers and my mother and father, like every Kirkland before me! Kirklands were Slytherins - not Hufflepuffs, not Ravenclaws and most certainly not Gryffindors.

"T-There must have been a mistake!" I quietly stammered to myself. My cheeks flushed scarlet as I caught sight of my brothers - Scott, Patrick and David - their mouths hung open in utter disbelief.

"There has been no mistake, Mr. Kirkland." McGonagall assured me. "You belong to Gryffindor. You'll be a fine edition to my house. I know you Kirklands are recognised for your Slytherin-based family and this is quite the shock, but you, my dear boy, are a Gryffindor!" She lightly tapped my shoulder and ushered me towards the table of my new house. I hopped off the stool and bit my lip a little too harshly. A few of the older years, including one of the prefects, nodded at me politely. I didn't receive the response most did. Usually, the Gryffindors would be bouncing up and down in excitement at gaining a new house member. I, however, proved to be an exception.

I hesitantly scuffled my way over to the table. Suddenly, without warning, a smiling boy with his wire-framed glasses askew and the bluest eyes I'd ever seen threw his arm around me. He stood a good deal taller than I and he felt a lot heavier, too.

"Welcome aboard!" He cheered. "This means that you're awesome and brave too, right?"

"U-Uh..." I stuttered dumbly.

"Don't worry! I'm the hero!" He loudly proclaimed. "My name's Alfred F. Jones and I'm Gryffindor's newest hero! Besides you, of course, but you don't really seem like the heroic type, I mean, brave and all, sure, but-"

"Quiet! Sit down, they're still sorting first years!" A bushy-haired third year scolded us. The red-haired boy beside her rolled his eyes at her antics and earned a book to the head in return. Opposite them sat an amused boy with an oddly distinctive scar.

"Sorry," Alfred gushed. He pulled me down and forced me to sit on the bench. I shot one last glance towards my brothers - my disappointed and somewhat disgusted brothers - our parents were bound to isolate me from the family even further.

"Why does everyone keep on givin' ya' funny looks?" Alfred asked innocently. I continued to tear my bottom lip with my teeth. "I'm a Kirkland. Kirklands are Slytherins." I frowned.

"Well," Alfred snorted. "You're a nice change, right? Refreshing... Merlin's beard, your eyebrows are huge..." He commented.

"Scott's spell went wrong." I responded almost instantly, aggravated. The boy was already getting on my nerves.

"They look kinda' like baby Puffskeins!" He smirked.

"Bloody git!" I seethed. "Leave me alone... I've just been sorted into the wrong house and I'm going to get disowned because of it!"

I let my head hit the polished wood of the table. Alfred rubbed circles into my back; I arched forwards at the contact.

"There, there now Artie," he whined patronisingly. I groaned.

"Shut up, American..." I mumbled. I hoped he was American, especially after the encounter with the apparent Canadian on the train. That didn't end well.

A faint cry of _'Slytherin' _in the background taunted me. I bit my lip harder.

"Hey, what's your wand made out of?" I turned my head on the cool surface of the table to find the idiot twirling my wand between his fingers.

"Unicorn hair and hazel, nine-and-three-quarter inches, now give it back!" I mumbled. He passed me the wand.

"Awesome! Mine's dragon heart-string and ebony, twelve-and-a-half inches." He smiled.

"Please leave me alone," I begged whilst burying my head into my arms.

"No can do, Artie!" He practically shouted. The bushy-haired girl demanded he lower his volume for a second time as her fingers twitched on the spine of her thick book.

"Hermione!" The ginger scrunched up his nose as the girl attacked him again, for whatever reason.

"You know, I have a brother too! He's Canadian and he's been sorted into Hufflepuff and his wand is maple and dragon heart-string!" Alfred babbled about anything and everything.

"Mattie said he met a French boy who has Veelas as relatives! Ain't that cool?"

"Sure Alfred."

"I want to duel! Promise me you'll have a duel with me soon!"

"Of course, Alfred."

"We're gonna' be best friends, Artie-"

"Don't call me that!"

I was almost heartbroken. I'd been sorted into the completely wrong house. I'd never be able to live it down. Despite this, I found myself unable to frown. I cracked a small grin as the final student was sorted into Ravenclaw; even though Slytherin was out of my reach, happiness wasn't. The American would surely keep me on my toes.

Things were going to get undeniably interesting.

* * *

_**Author's notes:**_ _I have revised this chapter. I found a_ _few mistakes_ _and corrected them (20th of May, 2012). I'd like to thank **West26058**, **Awesome Fangirl** and **The UK's Most Awesome **for being the first three reviwers; I will reply to your reviews separately._

_**Disclaimer:** I do not own Hidekaz Himaruya's **Hetalia Series** and neither do I own J. K. Rowling's **Harry Potter Universe**. I do not own any characters belonging to the universes, or any locations, etc., etc.._

_As implied, this story starts with Harry, Ron and Hemione in their second year. This means that Ginny, for example, is in her second year and Alfred and Arthur (As well as Matthew and a whole host of other characters) are in their first year. It does tie in with the canon-Harry Potter universe, so in Alfred and Arthur's first year the **Prisoner of Azkaban **will be at large.  
_

_Thank you for reading and reviewing,  
_

_~Iggyloid.  
_


	2. The Golden Trio

Alfred's continuous chatter filed through one of my ears and floated out through the other. I barely registered what he was actually talking about - he just wouldn't stop spewing nonsense - we could both sense the book-wielding girl and her growing displeasure.

"Please, for Merlin's sake, be quiet!" She pleaded. Her eyes scanned Alfred. "We can all hear you, you know! The entire hall can!"

"No they can't!" Alfred retorted in a whiny, childish manner.

The girl sighed.

"Lay off them, Hermione," the scarred boy piped up. "They're just excited first years."

I jogged my memory and tried to supply my brain with a decent answer as to why he felt so familiar.

"Wait a minute," I found my voice. The girl, her bruised, red-headed friend, Scar-Face and Alfred all turned to face me. A few other Gryffindors did too. I blushed heavily at the attention I had attracted.

"You're... you're Harry Potter, right?" I mumbled, bashfully.

The boy squirmed a little in what seemed to be discomfort.

Alfred's eyes grew wider and brighter. He shuffled in his seat and rushed out a few unidentifyable words.

"Yeah." The boy nodded.

I smiled slightly. Confidence washed over my features.

"And you two are Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley, yes?" I was amazed!

"Yes," the girl confirmed, a little suprised. "Yes." She shot Weasley a confused look. The lanky boy returned it.

"For the love of pheonixes!" Alfred cried dramatically. "I heard all about you in America! My dad told me about you! This is so cool! I'm actually sitting next to a bunch of real-life heroes!"

"Yeah, well..." Ron grinned.

"Listen, boys," Harry murmured. "We're here for you if you need anything, but a word of advice, first: be careful with Slytherin. Especially you." He warned. He pointed a finger at me. "They won't take kindly to a pure-blooded Gryffindor from a family of Slytherins."

I nodded shyly.

After a quick speech from Dumbledore, the finest headmaster Hogwarts had ever seen, we were all ushered out of the Grand Hall. Of course, a feast was prepared for us before we left. Alfred ate twice his body weight in puddings, I picked at my food and ate a mouthful or so.

We were lectured on Dementors, beasts which were assigned the task of guarding the castle for the year. They were huge, ghoul-like creatures. They reminded me of corpses - monsters without faces, skeleton like - they floated and glided through air without trouble. Dementors, like ghosts, terrified Alfred. Nearly-Headless Nick, Gryffindor's house ghost, popped up from underneath the table in the hall, passed through the wood of the furniture and through several dishes. He nearly gave poor Alfred a heart attack. The boy wouldn't eat after the incident, either.

* * *

We were led to Gryffindor's common room by our prefect and directed to our dorm. Alfred dived on one of the four-poster beds and demanded that I sleep on the one next to it. We were grouped with three other boys - three other Gryffindors - an Australian boy with a vulgar sense of humour, a huge bloke from Sweden and a very quiet lad who refused to speak, much less engage in conversation.

"G'day, mate, nice ta'meet ya'!" The Aussie shook my hand with too much enthusiasm for my tastes.

"The pleasure's mine." I nodded curtly.

"Ma' name's Jake and my wand is eleven-and-a-quarter inches long, if ya' know what I mean." He snorted with poorly concealed laughter. I blanched with disgust.

"Delightful," I sarcastically remarked. I fiddled with the scarlet hem of my new robes.

Alfred took to the Australian quickly. They joked and talked and made a good deal of noise amongst themselves - everything about the pair was loud. The Swedish boy didn't speak a great deal and neither did the other lad, who had already retired to bed.

As Alfred and Jake started to quieten down, I decided that sleep would be the best option for me, too. I'd been through a lot - Gryffindor was still a shock, though not quite something that was _completely _unwanted. I shrugged myself out of my cloak and loosened my silk tie. I slowly unbuttoned my white shirt and tried to keep my flushes at bay - I wasn't used to being around others - I usually had the privacy of my own company, without it being tainted by the presence of others.

With a remarkable amount of speed - velocity I barely knew I possessed - I stripped myself down to my underwear and threw on my night clothes, which were supposed to reflect my house. They were green, made from cotton. Very soft.

I crawled underneath the red-and-gold blankets of my new bed and curled up into a ball, face away from my room-mates. I closed my eyes and was all too willing to force myself into a dreamless sleep - I stopped dreaming a long, long time ago. A large hand placed itself on my thin shoulder and rolled me over.

"Night Artie," I was met with Alfred's soft gaze and _bare chest. _My face erupted with colour.

"Night, git... and don't call me Artie!" I spat under my breath.

He chuckled lightly before leaving my side in favour of his own bed. With my face the colour of my duvet, I buried my head into my pillow and swore a few times for good measure.

Hopefully the first of my classes would be to my advantage.


	3. He Took A Shoe To The Head

I woke to the feel of something hard and painfully heavy pressing into my stomach.

"Get up Arthur!" Someone shouted into one of my ears.

I groaned and thrashed around underneath my blankets. I thrust my head underneath my fluffy, scarlet pillow and burrowed my face into my mattress.

"Get up, you lazy Brit!" The voice demanded. I hissed at the accented tone - _American - _of course, I'd been sorted into the wrong bloody house and assigned the task of babysitting a hyper wizard from North America. A hyper wizard from North America with an obvious problem with his sugar intake.

"It's over first freaking day! You can't sleep in!"

With more force than necessary, I forced himself into a sitting position. My sandy-blond hair stuck up randomly, at odd angles.

"Alfred," I quietly muttered. "You have three seconds to get the bloody hell away from me. Three seconds, or I'll make sure that the next thing that you kiss will be a Dementor!"

The blue-eyed boy chuckled. He threw himself around me and I couldn't help but feel skiny and bony in his slightly-muscular arms.

"Aw, you're so mean Artie! I plan on kissing _a lot _of _things _in the near future, so don't say that!"

My face flooded with colour. I squirmed against the taller wizard, who was already dressed, tie and all. I sat lamely in his cotton nightwear.

Jake whistled from across the room. He was busy fiddling with the buttons of his shirt.

"That's the way ta' be, Alfred, mate! Kiss all the witches ya' can!" He chortled.

Alfred's hold on my body tightened and he squealed into my clothed shoulder. I raised a Puffskein-like eyebrow at the action.

"...I don't think many witches are going to want to snog a boy who hasn't hit puberty yet..." I tried to murmur into the skin of Alfred's neck uncomfortably. He was suffocating me!

"Hey, man! No fair! Just because you're tiny, it don't mean we all are!" Alfred frowned and furrowed his brow, pushing himself away from me; I couldn't help but smirk.

"It's _doesn't, _not _don't, _go and learn a thing or two about grammar, you idiot. You know, you have a remarkably high-pitched voice for someone of your size." Acidic eyes rolled in their sockets and I swung my legs over the side of the bed. I managed to locate my Gryffindor-themed uniform and shrugged the long-sleeved pyjama shirt off one shoulder.

Alfred huffed like a child at my insult. Sure, it was poor and rather petty, but still, it was to my clear advantage.

"At least my body is kinda' mature!" The boy grinned.

"I've got time." I weakly shot back. "We're eleven, not sixteen."

"Then act like it, Artie, you sound like an old geezer!"

I promptly threw one of his shoes at Alfred's head, earning a snort of laughter from their Australian pal, and a cry of defiance from the American himself, who rubbed at his sore head with the palm of his hand.

I swore that the Swedish bloke snickered, too.

* * *

Alfred pestered me until I was dragged out of the Gryffindor Common Room and into the Grand Hall, where breakfast was served.

Alfred was in heaven. His eyes shone and he giggled happily to himself.

As his American peer choked down various foods and slurped his way through many goblets of pumpkin juice, I couldn't help but wonder.

"Hey Alfred," I murmured. "I don't mean to intrude or anything, but I was wondering..."

"Stop using big words, man!" A pout flashed across Alfred's face as he downed more juice.

"...What's your blood status?" I asked, keeping my volume low. "

Alfred beamed. "I'm a half-blood, so I'm not as _pure _as you are, sorry man. My mom's a muggle but my dad's a wizard. He cheated on his wife. Technically, me and Mattie are only half-brothers, because my dad's wife was his mom. She was a witch, so Mattie's a pure-blood. She was devastated when she found out about me, almost four years after my birth. Turned out so me and Matt were born days apart. He's older though, but only by a few days."

The American inhaled food as he spoke. He acted as if I would suddenly turn away, our of pure disinterest, though I hung to his every would, intrigued. The air around us felt as if it had grown thicker.

"Oh..." I managed. In all honesty, it was quite a lot to take in and the atmosphere felt all too awkward afterwards.

"Hey Artie!" Luckily, Alfred shattered the tension that hung between us. "We've got Charms first!"

* * *

Charms was taught by a very, very short man named Flitwick. Professor Flitwick. He was, however, a jolly man with a cheery attitude and a lot of enthusiasm.

As Alfred and I went to enter the classroom, a few Slytherins blocked the enterance; a boy with _stubble, _even at his age, an albino with sharp, red eyes and a mischieveous grin and an odd looking lad who stood at an incredible height.

"Well, well," the first cackled. He stroked the hair on his chin with a strange air of pride. "What do we 'ave 'ere?"

I cringed at his foreign accent. Clearly _French. _

"It's Kirkland!" The albino cheered. He laughed. "Shouldn't you be wearing green, eh?"

I shrugged.

"Obviously not." I mused with the ghost of a frown gracing my lips.

The tallest of the trio swung backwards and forwards on his heels before inputting his own thoughts.

"Perhaps he is just too weak to be on our side, da?" His voice was light and soft. It contrasted his appearence completely. "After all, Slytherin is... for the ambitious, da?"

The French boy scrunched up his nose. "I suppose so..."

Thoroughly confused and more than slightly irritated, I pushed my way past the trio. I ignored their venomous glares, though I couldn't help but shudder under the piercing gaze of the tall lad.

"Come on, Alfred."

The American complied and had managed to stay quiet throughout the whole ordeal.

Strange.


	4. Wingardium Leviosa, American Style

_**Author's Notes: **__I'd like to thank all readers for the support and response this story has received. I apologise for the lack of notes in previous chapters. I haven't had much time lately. I've been concentrating on getting the chapters published. Ironically, I have my English GCSE on Monday and I have plenty more exams after. My next update of this story will be after the weekend as I have to focus on revision, not to mention coursework and the likes of. I'll try to add chapters to this story as regularly as possible, thanks. _

_(I will also start replying to reviews. Sorry, I haven't done so yet.)_

* * *

"Why won't it work?" Alfred growled frustratedly as he waved his wand around in random directions.

"You're not doing it right." I frowned. The American's wrist movements were too harsh and controlled. "You need to stop using so much strength!"

Alfred glared at the small feather in front of him. I bit my lip and rolled my eyes.

"Make sure that your movements flow," I instructed. "Be gentle!"

I had performed the charm earlier - with a considerable amount of ease - a few other pupils had managed to pull off the spell too. _Wingardium Leviosa _wasn't deemed as tricky; it was the norm to teach it to young wizards.

A Spaniard suddenly cheered with glee as his feather rose. A large smile graced his tanned features. He smiled happily to the boy next to him.  
"Look, Lovino!" He chirped. "I've done it!"

"Coming from a _fucking Ravenclaw, _that isn't suprising!" The boy snapped. He slammed his wand onto his desk and frowned, ruffling his yellow-trimmed robes.

"See." Alfred groaned. "I'm not the only one who can't do it."

"Just try harder!" I scowled.

Flitwick, sensing the tension between his agrrivated students, brought his hands together.

"Well, now," he chuffed. "Many of you have now performed _Wingardium Leviosa, _yes?"

I nodded curtly, along with a few Ravenclaws, the odd Hufflepuff and one of the three Slytherin boys from ealier.

The short man ran over a few more demonstrations of the charm for those who couldn't master it. Alfred watched his motions with a trained eye.

"I can do this," he murmured to himself, raising his wand and my throat tightened. Things couldn't turn out well...

The boy swished his wand through the air a few times before flicking it.

"Swish and flick," he mumbled. "Swish and flick, swish and flick, swish and flick, swish and flick!" He repeated the words over and over again, almost chanting.

I twitched. His wand tapped my nose on a few of his flicks.

"Watch it!" I hissed. "You'll end up levitating me!"

"Sorry," he mused, before swishing and tapping me on the nose for the sixth time. I let out a strangled scream and my body shot up, out of my chair.

"Alfred!" I shrieked as the spell wore off. Of course, Alfred couldn't even manage to levitate a feather! I, as an almost-teenage boy, rose into the air by a few feet or two and fell, hard and inbetween my chair and my desk. I grumbled in pain.

"Mr. Jones!" Flitwick yelled. He waddled over to our desks. My ribcage throbbed, the ache was dull but prominent. "How, pray tell, did you pull off _that _feat?"

All of the Slytherins in the classroom snickered amongst themselves. My face flushed with embarrassment. I shakily pushed myself up to my feet.

Needless to say, we left the lesson with Flitwick convinced of Alfred's apparent skill. That and my bruised chest, of course.

* * *

_I will spell-check this chapter when I can. I will compensate for the length when I can, thank you._


	5. Needles and Matches

"Alfred," I began calmly. "You are not skilled with Charms. You were poking my nose with your wand, for Merlin's sake, it was an accident, and yes, I forgive you! Even if you've bruised me terribly..."

"No way, dude, you shouldn't be expecting me to apologise!" He threw his arms above his head and stretched them, yawning as he did. "I made that lesson twenty-percent cooler!"

I bowed my head in defeat. There really was no arguing with an American Gryffindor - they're stubborn and adamant of their own bravery and heroic traits.

"Whatever!" I frowned. "...We have Transfiguration next. Professor McGonagall."

"Awesome!" Alfred cheered. "The head of Gryffindor! She has to be brave and awesome!"

"...Sure, sure," I reluctantly agreed, fearing another half-hearted argument. "Just be careful, otherwise I'll be tempted into turning you into a quill, or maybe something more useful. A china cup, perhaps."

* * *

Professor McGonagall introduced herself politely and gave us all a small lecture on the subject.

"Transfiguration, students, as most of you will know, is the alteration of form. The subject is complex and very difficult for some pupils. We'll be starting with the transfiguration of a match to a needle, and please bare in mind, students, that some of you will be unable to master this trick in one lesson." McGonagall was friendly in a reserved way; her tone wavered from kind to strict. She held herself in a proud way - she kept her head held high and her back straight - but she still seemed gentle for some reason.

McGonagall demonstrated the transfiguration a few times. She waved her wand and her match transformed into a shiny, silver needle. She flicked it back and forth, turning the needle back into a match. She repeated the process and I could hear Alfred, who sat beside me, softly whispering.

"Match, needle, match, needle..." He chanted.

McGonagall gave us all a match each and told us to practice.

"Only a few of you, if any, will be able to transfigure your matches in one lesson." She assured.

Alfred bounded over to his place after collecting his match. He handed me an identical one and held his wand tightly.

"Loosen up," I muttered.

I held my own wand and tried to copy McGonagall's earlier movements. Alfred waved his wand like in a dangerous manner. He sudddenly threw his hands onto the table in front of us and sighed.

"Bloody hell!" I yelled as he prodded my cheek with his finger. He had no consideration for my personal space. A pout spread across his face.

"I can't do it." He stated blankly.

"Take time to try!" I snapped. "Watch, my dear friend, and learn."

* * *

I walked out of Transfiguration with my head held high. I, Arthur Kirkland, had been the only student skilled enough to successfully transfigure a match into a needle. I smiled to myself as Alfred whined.

"Show off," he frowned. "This makes us even. I'm a beast when it comes to Charms and you're all over Transfiguration."

"You're just sore. You're not _a beast _at Charms, you poked me with your damn wand!" I protested.

"I've done it once," he smirked. "I can do it again!"

He drove the tip of his wand into my scalp - I squeaked pathetically and shoved the American away - he laughed obnoxiously.

"I bet I'm better than you at Quidditch, anyway." He stuck out his tongue.

"We'll see, you bloody tosser."


	6. We'll Make It If We Try

After a while, Alfred and I became the best of friends - we ended up inseperable. We always stood side-by-side, no matter what we were doing, no matter who we were with or where we were. We stayed up late at night and talked about everything and anything.

I was labelled as an over-achiever by most of the professors in the school whereas Alfred had managed to make a statement on the Quidditch pitch - several of the Gryffindors had considered him for the team, though his _'extraordinary skill', _as Harry had described it, still lacked. He wasn't granted special permission to play as a first year. Nevertheless, he practised hard and training took up a lot of his time. I often in the Gryffindor stands with a book perched on my lap as he flew his broom happily.

My brothers and my parents were both shocked by the house the Sorting Hat had placed me in. My father had demanded to speak to Dumbledore, McGonagall and Professor Snape, who was in charge of Slytherin. Needless to say, I was denied of the title of a Slytherin. I didn't mind as much as I thought I would; I quite liked my Gryffindor scarf.

My father and Scott were the worst. They were furious. Scott decided to take out his anger on me and, occasionally, Alfred would find me with blood dripping down my chin in a dark corner of the library. Mother was disgusted by my gold and scarlet tie, but she faked indifference for my sake. Patrick spat insults at me whenever I saw him around the castle, but I knew he didn't mean them. He just wanted to keep on Scott's reasonably pleasent side. David was a saviour - he didn't care that I had strayed from tradition - he just ruffled my hair whenever he could and even gave me the odd hug or two. He, at least, was a decent person, behind his Slytherin status. He was still cunning, ambitious and deceitful.

Sirius Black, the outlaw who had been at large, was starting to fade into the background. I didn't trouble myself with keeping up with the media. Alfred, Ron and I barely saw Harry and Hermione for some reason, and it was obviously making something within the fiery-haired Weasley tick. Alfred, unfortunately, seemed to be convinced that Harry and Hermione were perfect for each other, and thanks to his inconsiderate blabbering, his friendship with Ron grew icy and the older boy became unusually silent in Alfred's presence.

Towards the end of the year, Ron, Harry and Hermione started pulling closer together again. Ron began smiling more. He laughed and cheered more around his two best friends. He had been put in the hospital wing for a while, for one reason or another, he wouldn't say, but Alfred and I hardly minded. We were on our way to completing our first year as young wizards.

* * *

One morning, Alfred had dragged me up into to Astronomy Tower. I wasn't too pleased, but I didn't mind too much. I was used to his crazy antics.

"I was thinking..." He muttered to himself as he gazed out of the balcony of the tower.

"Don't do to much of that," I warned. "You'll end up straining yourself, and we don't want that now, do we?"

"Hahaha, funny." He sarcastically retorted and pride welled up inside of me. He was beginning to pick up British humour rather well. "What are you doing this summer?" He asked and I bit my lip. I didn't now.

"I'm not sure." I confessed.

"You're not getting on all too well with your parents at the minute, right?" He mumbled and I nodded. I wasn't much of a Kirkland in my father's eyes anymore.

"Not really," I frowned. "Things will work themselves out, though. I know they will, I mean, they have to!"  
Over the course of the year, I'd turned twelve in spring. Alfred was still anticipating his birthday and I knew he wanted me to celebrate it with him.

"Maybe you could spend the summer with me and my family? Me and Mattie and everyone? His mom's letting him spend the vacation with Dad and Mom's perfectly fine with the idea, I asked her in a letter! She wants to meet you, 'cause you're so good at Charms and stuff!" He blabbered. I pondered.

I'd met Matthew several times and he was a nice enough boy. He was quiet and gentle, but still kind and interesting. He wasn't very sure of himself. Neither was he confident. He was just Matthew, shy and soft-spoken but nevertheless, a good friend of mine.

The thought of spending the summer holidays with the Joneses and a Canadian with his mother's name unnerved me slightly. Alfred's Mother must have approved of Matthew already, but still, my mind continuously provided me with excuses.

"We'll see," I smiled. "Thanks for the invitation though. I appreciate it. You're a good friend, Al."

"I know," he grinned cockily. "But we're missing out on breakfast for this! C'mon, we better hurry!"

* * *

The day progresses smoothly. We had Potions with Snape first, the Head of Slytherin. He never was very fond of me, for obvious reasons. He ranted on about my brothers and mentioned my mother and fatherm abd what they were like as his classmates. He deducted a few House Points from Gryffindor because of Alfred's clumsiness and, in the end, I partnered with him in order to prevent him from knocked the House Cup out of our reach.

"Be careful, Kirkland." Snape snarled at one point. "Some of the older years aren't taking kindly to you... you're supposed to be... a Slytherin." He spoke slowly, as he always did.

"Yeah, well, if they try anythin' I'll protect Artie!" Alfred puffed out his chest and threw an arm around my shoulders, much like the time he did when we first met. I groaned, embarrassed.

Snape turned his nose on us. I moped and grumbled unhappily at Alfred's apparent _'awesome-ness',_ as he called it.

"You'll get us into trouble one day, I swear."

* * *

_I'm admittedly hoping that the previous two updates will compensate for my absense. Again, my apologies. Good news, though, I've taken my English GCSE papers (chances are I've failed, stupid papers) so I should be on my way to updating regularly once again. Thanks._


	7. Small Steps: The First Acts of Bravery

I really didn't take Snape's warning into proper consideration. He was just out to scare me, I was sure of it, but I wasn't a Slytherin. I wasn't what everybody wanted; I was a Gryffindor. An unlikely, strange Gryffindor, yes, but a Gryffindor through and through. That's what Alfred always told me and it's what I had started to tell myself too. After a while, I became grateful and humble. I was so glad - happy and fortunate for my status. Despite this, I had a lot to worry about. My family weren't the only people disgraced and disgusted by my house.

Alfred had been ecstatic and bubbly all day. Harry had agreed to help him practise for Quidditch, so he could maximise his chances of being chosen for the team next year. He had invited me along, but I, as foolish as I was, declined. I was never bullied with Alfred beside me and I knew that I was safe with him around. I became somewhat arrogant and determined - I wanted to prove to everybody that I deserved to be a Gryffindor - I wanted to show them that I most certainly _did not _belong in Slytherin, starting with small acts of bravery. I would walk the corridors of the castle alone, even with so many people waiting to make a laughing stock out of me, even with so many people just dying to hex me a few times; once, twice and three times for good measure.

* * *

With lessons over for the day and nightfall quickly approaching, Quidditch players like Alfred and Harry flocked to the playing grounds in an attempt to squeeze in some last minute practise. A few dedicated students took refuge in the library, away from the slackers and their vulgar language. I had decided to return to the Gryffindor Common Room. I just wasn't expecting what I found.

I climbed the Grand Staircase and tried to recall the Fat Lady's current password: _Fairy Lights_. I was particularly fond of the name. I didn't reach the Gryffindor Tower. I was stopped at the top of the Grand Staircase, just as I was about to scamper off to the Common Room.

A boy with odd silver hair and devious blood-red eyes tapped my shoulder before encasing it in an iron hold. With a devilish smirk and all, he laughed obnoxiously. He seemed vaguely familiar. Alarm bells rang loud and clear in my head and my eyes scanned over his uniform, accented with green here and there. A Slytherin. I couldn't be too careful.

"You're Kirkland, right? The Gryffindor Nobody. The Crimson Snake and all that?" He cackled. I flinched.

"Yeah." I muttered. The nicknames were strange and foreign - I was a bit of a loner without Harry and Alfred and all, but I wasn't insulted too often.

"Word in the Dungeons is that you bribed Dumbledore and the rest of the teachers somehow." He grinned. "That true?"

I cringed.

"Bloody hell, no. The Sorting Hat placed me in Gryffindor, that's all." I protested but the albino shook his head. His free hand reached for my other shoulder.

"Get off." I spat. The warning lacked venom, sounding more afraid than anything else and I cursed my hesitance.

"I don't think so. Some of the boys down in the Dungeons are looking for you. Don't ya' wanna' have a lovely family chat with your _bruders_?" His German accent became more prominent and he began to pull me down the steps of the Grand Staircase.

"Sorry, but I don't think now would be a good time, I'm behind in Potions and studying is kind of essential at the minute..." I tried to worm myself out of the situation.  
"Oh, great. Snape's in the Dungeons right now," he smirked toothily. "No time like the present, ay?"

"Ah, quite." I bit my lip and silently cursed my little mistake. "Really, though, now isn't the time... I don't fancy an audience of Slytherins, thank you very much."

"Coward." The boy challenged. "How the hell did you get into Gryffindor? If not Slytherin, you should be in Hufflepuff. I'm sure that even Ravenclaw would rather refrain from housing a rat like you."

After struggling and bouncing back insults and rude comments, the albino grew tired. A few of his cronies had shown up and I was dragged to the Dungeons with a hand clasped over my mouth and a green and silver tie secured over my eyes. Fingers curled around my wrists and I'm sure I was hit with some sort of immobilising hex. They were older than me, that was for sure.

I'm not sure what happened after that. I was beaten whilst still blindfolded, probably in the Dungeons by older students dressed in green.

"Gryffindor tosser," somebody spat. A fist collided with my cheek for the fifth time - blood dribbled out of the corners of my mouth and I cursed back.

"Damn straight." I had managed to cough out. I spluttered and took the punches and kicks, even a few spells. I don't know what they did to me but, bloody hell, they _hurt_. A lot.

Somewhere along the line, I blacked out with the tie still around my head and my hazel wand still untouched in my pocket. I fell unconscious but still remained defiant and loyal to my house. I didn't want to give the Slytherins what they wanted; they were only beating me because of my name, _Kirkland._ If I were a Slytherin myself, they'd worship me and that was a fact. My brothers would still tease me, but they wouldn't encourage others to abuse me and my parents would adore me. Unfortunately for them, I was housed into Gryffindor and from that day on, the house became a part of me and a part of who I was: Arthur Kirkland, Hogwarts first year, student extraordinaire, short, British Gryffindor.

* * *

I woke up in the hospital wing with Hermione, Ron and Harry crowded around my bed.

"He's awake!" Hermione gave a sigh of relief.  
"He's awake? Thank Merlin! Lemme' see!" My head was pounding. A head of blond hair pushed itself inbetween Harry and Ron. Blue eyes lacked their usual shine and his glasses sat unbalanced on his nose, just like they did when we first met.

"Hey Al." I choked out. He suddenly threw himself at me. The wind was knocked out of my lungs and I spluttered, but truly, I didn't mind too much.

"Arthur, please tell me you're ok! Who did this to you? What happened? They'll freaking get what's coming to them! Everyone in Gryffindor is furious!" Alfred babbled on and on. "It was a Slytherin! You had a tie blindfolding you when Hermione and me found you in the library! Tell me what happened! All the Gryffindors are super mad and McGonagall is off her head! They're gonna' pay for what they did to you!"

Harry pulled Alfred back by his shoulder and memories flooded back.

"Careful," he warned.

"You'll end up strangling him or somethin'." Ron added.

"...They've already paid, anyway..." I murmured. "They're not getting what they want. I'll prove to them and to everyone else," I closed my tired eyes with a sigh. "I'm a Gryffindor, through and through, and nobody will change that."


	8. Gold and Crimson Hearts

I was up and back on my feet within a day or two - I wasn't injured particularly badly - well, it wasn't something that had Madam Pomfrey worried. I just had to practically inhale a disgusting liquid that she must have concocted years ago. Alfred was pleased by my quick recovery and the Gryffindor Tower exploded; everybody wanted the gossip and details. I couldn't care about what they wanted to know. I was just the measley first year who'd pulled a _Hermione Granger _and wowed the school with academic skill. The oddball Kirkland with red around his neck instead of the shade of green that ran in his family. The kid that had managed to get himself beaten up by a group of anonymous Slytherins looking for a twisted sort of vengence.

Hermione, Harry and Ron where somewhat supportive of me, but they had their own worries. I didn't hold it against them, but they sure were helpful to have around. I became a victim of bullying and I was about to find out that there were people out there who were willing to walk all over the few people I called my friends to get to me.

* * *

"Now you're back, dude, you can watch me fly on a broom! I'm better now! I've been training like crazy and the last time you watched me play was too long ago..." Alfred's words rushed out of his mouth as I walked with him through one of the corridors of the school. His mood had brightened a little and he was smiling a lot more when compared to the hollow wreck he was in the hospital wing. His hair was perfectly positioned, not a hair out of place, his glasses still weren't straight, a little askew but almost iconically so and his eyes were as endlessly blue as ever. They reminded me of the sky once more as I nodded distantly to his chatter.

He stretched his arms above his head.

"Merlin!" He groaned as he extended his hands and wiggled his fingers. "So glad you're okay... we all thought you'd been seriously hurt!"

I scoffed and smirked cockily.

"Not quite," I fiddled with my tie slightly, fingering the crimson silk. "I'm not as fragile as I appear to be, you idiot. I'm perfectly capable of taking a beating."

"Yeah, so, it wasn't right. Just glad you're alright and back to your study-boy self." He grinned and ruffled my hair, using his height to his advantage. I briefy contemplated whisking out my beautiful albeit neglected wand.

"G-Get off!" I pouted childishly and swiped at his arm, encouraging his obnoxious, confident laughter.

"Back to normal, Artie, aren't 'cha?" He smiled and I couldn't help but smile back.

* * *

Everything was back to the way it was; Alfred and I started rushing to and through lessons again. He lit my cloak on fire when a charm went wrong (to the amusement of Professor Flitwick), he messed up one of my potions, he almost snapped his wand in Herbology and I almost killed myself during a Qudditch lesson. Alfred managed to earn himself detention after detention, some of which I ended up roped into. We made a few other friends too.

I bumped into a Ravenclaw in the library who promptly introduced herself as Elizabeta, before drawling on about all sorts of things. She babbled about her homeland, Hungary, and her Austrian boyfriend and she even cursed her year group under her breath, complaining about the other third years. I made a mental note to point her out to Harry. As she rambled, Alfred popped up behind me and clamped his hands over my eyes. Strangely enough, Elizabeta squealed, scribbled something into a notebook she randomly produced from her pocket, asked of our names and scampered off.

Alfred was training for Quidditch when he met the Ravenclaw seeker, Honda Kiku, a Japanese student in his fourth year, I created a shaky friendship of sorts with a boy in Hufflepuff from Portugal and we met a few of Ron's siblings in the common room - Fred, George and Ginny Weasley - they certainly made an amazing family.

Another meeting of mine involved a Frenchman, clad in green, with a face all too familiar and a chin with too much stubble for his age. Alfred had been teasing me. He'd snatched one of my books away from me, laughed and waved it above my head, poking fun at the name and the front cover. I'd tripped and fallen straight into the open arms of the Slytherin and I can safely say that conflict did not go avoided.

* * *

"Kirkland," McGonagall called one Transfiguration lesson. "I'd like to speak with you after class."

I nodded politely.

"Another thing," she muttered, scowling. "Help out Jones before he manages to transfigure himself into that sorry piece of string."

Alfred had frowned and raised his wand. "I can do this!" He yelled confidently, before swinging his wand and slamming it onto the desk, next to the string. "The string just needs more awesome. I can't use my awesome magic on things that aren't awesome."

I sighed and held my hazel wand firmly. "Sure, Al."

I swished my wand and my piece of string transformed into a spindle of crimson thread.

"Show off." Alfred pouted. "What do ya' think McGonagall wants?"

"Well, I don't know." I yawned. "Merlin's beard, so tired..."

"Go to sleep earlier then. Y'know, instead of studying. Religously." He commented arrogantly.

"Screw you, at least I study at all." I countered.

"Limey."

"Yank."

"Stingy Brit, go drink some tea."

"Shut up, you bloody idiot!"

_"Tsundere."_

"What in the name of Dumbledore is a _tsundere?__"_

"Ask Kiku."

"Jones, transfigure that string!"

* * *

After class, McGonagall kept me behind, as she said she would.

"Mr Kirkland, it has come to the attention of the majority of the staff here that you aren't safe," she started. "Not with the Slytherin house acting so disgustingly. Their actions are out of order, Kirkland, and although it is the minority, they are being dealt with, I can assure you. We are in the process of identifying your attackers and they will be punished appropriately."

"You weren't caused any serious harm, so that is something we need to keep in mind. You were injured, yes, but not a brutally as some other students have been in the past. The reason we're investigating so deeply into this revolves around your house, Arthur. It's discrimination. Gryffindor and Slytherin have never got along, as I'm sure you are aware of, and our rivalry is the most fierce of the four houses, but this case has been taken out of hand."

"Your position has sparked a lot of... controversy, shall we say? A lot of the other students are starting to question why you were put into Gryffindor. The Slytherins want you in their house because of your more than respectable academic reputation, but for that same reason, the Ravenclaws are asking themselves and staff why you're not with them. Not only that, but students are questioning their own housings as well. Professor Dumbledore will be addressing the situation and settling the doubt students have regarding their sortings, but for now I have been given orders to advise you in keeping your distance from members of the Slytherin house. Including your brothers, Kirkland."

"Okay." I couldn't help but focus on the black leather of my shoes. "I understand." I didn't want the Head of Gryffindor to go off on another rant.

She smiled. "Of course you do, Mr Kirkland. I'll be requesting assistance from Jones, mind you. You seem to be helping him avoid complete and utter failure in his classes, so I'll be asking that he keeps a closer eye on you in return. You are dismissed, Kirkland."

* * *

"Hey Arthur!" Alfred beamed as I entered the Gryffindor common room.

"Hey guys." I nodded to his little group - the golden trio and Jake - they smiled back.

"Want to check out my wand yet?" Jake asked cheekily with a smirk too big for his tanned face.

I blanched and Hermione looked shocked.

"How vulgar, especially for someone of your age." She frowned.

"Not too many years between us, Miss Granger." He grinned toothily and Ron tensed slightly.

"Hey Arthur," the red-haired boy smiled to me. "Al said McGonagall called you. What did she want?" He asked curiously.

"Just going on about the Slytherins." I mumbled. "Not much. Apparently the other students are starting to doubt their sorting."

"Bloody idiots..." He muttered. "The Sorting Hat's never wrong!"

"He's right," chimed in Harry. "You're sorted into a particular house for a reason.

"Yup!" Alfred agreed whole-heartedly. He bounced to his feet and thrust a fist up, into the air. "Take me, for example! I'm a Gryffindor 'cause I'm a freakin' hero!"

"Yeah, yeah, mate. Save it for later." Jake rolled his eyes with a fond smile. "We've heard it all before."

Alfred weaved his way towards me and slung his arm over my shoulder.

"Artie, you're a Gryffindor because you're so obviously destined to be my awesome side-kick slash damsel-in-distress!" He cheered.

"Bloody git! I'm not a girl!" I barked.

"Didn't say you were, be proud! A hero only has one main man, you get me? You're Robin to my Batman!"

"That makes me feel a whole lot better." I sarcastically responded.

"Sure it does!" Alfred laughed, along with Hermione, Jake and Ron. Harry cracked a smile and a little chuckle and I found myself grinning too.

"Sure thing, Al. Sure thing."

* * *

_**I guess I owe you guys an apology. Sorry for the prolonged update, but I've finished my GCSEs for now. I'm on work experience next week and this summer I'll be going on a road-trip through main-land Europe, so I don't know when I'll be updating, just please, PLEASE stay with me! I'll update when I can! Thank you for all the support! **_

_**~Iggyloid  
**_

_**((Another thing, I'll be drawing a front cover for this story and all of my manga will be published on my Facebook profile, Tsukiko Rin. Check it out :) Thanks!))  
**_


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